


Is It True You're A Warlock?

by clownjizz



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [4]
Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Not Beta Read, Punk Eddie Kaspbrak, holiday fic, i wrote this for a friend and never bothered publishing it on here, okay eddie is good w kids and i wont take anything else as an aswer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:20:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26995822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clownjizz/pseuds/clownjizz
Summary: Eddie is dragged along to Richie's family dinner for the holidays and finds out that Richie has been feeding lies to his little cousins.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Tumblr Drabbles [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1774156
Comments: 5
Kudos: 61





	Is It True You're A Warlock?

**Author's Note:**

> ayyo feel free to shoot me an ask or whatever on [his shit website](https://sluttheory.tumblr.com) bc lord knows im a slut for attention

“I’m not wearing the sweater to your grandparents house, they’ll think I’m some kind of fucking… little pushover.”  
Richie tossed the sweater aside, a white fleece one with thin pink stripes, it hung off Eddie’s shoulders in a way that Richie always loved to point out.

“Baby,” Richie whined and shoved his hands up under Eddie’s shirt, successfully untucking it from the jeans cinched high on his waist, “You are a pushover,” Eddie scoffed and batted at the wandering hand creeping towards his chest, “A jacket isn’t going to change that.”

“I’m not a pushover.”

A smile spread across the back of his neck, familiar but still sending the hair on his arms to stand up, making his heart flutter and butterflies drift around in his belly without his permission. “You’re right, you’re just a chronic people pleaser.”

\--

Snow covered the ground, a few inches of it crunched under Eddie’s boots and made his toes go numb while he and Richie walked hand in hand up the long driveway, the kind that huge houses had and gave off this “I’m rich and could literally buy your fundamental rights as a human being without making a dent in my kid’s college fund” vibe that Eddie hated simply on principal. They finally made it to the porch, Richie’s free hand was heavy with bags of gifts for the younger kids, Eddie’s held an easily identifiable big brown paper. Richie jammed his elbow against the doorbell and immediately screaming laughter filtered through from behind the heavy wooden door, it swung open to reveal a kid with a bright smile and even brighter blue eyes -- The Toziers had some good fucking genes, okay? All sharp jaws and blue eyes and proud noses -- who looked like they were about to say something only to stare at Eddie in bewilderment.

“Earth to Leah,” Richie whistled, bent at the waist to be almost eye level with the girl, “You gonna let us in? Fucking… cold as hell out here, kiddo.”

She nodded and lept out of the way, running off somewhere. They entered the house and Eddie swears to fucking god that he’s never been in a house this big, just the livingroom was the size of the entire first floor of his own home, spacious as fuck with large, expensive paintings hung on the tall -- why is the house so big? What the hell? -- walls, replica of Klimt’s The Kiss hung above the fancy fucking marble fireplace.

He felt so fucking out of place. More than he usually did at some kind of gathering. He felt sincerely out of place and wanted to cower away, back to Richie’s pretentious dark blue Jeep and back home. The hand on his lower back must’ve meant that he’d actually started to do so. 

“You okay, baby?” Richie asked softly. They barely made it five feet from the door. “Eds,”

Eddie nodded, chose to ignore the lingering eyes that landed on them, “Why the fuck is this house so fucking big?” He gripped the paper bag with white knuckles and his toes curled until they hurt beneath the leather of his combat boots. They felt heavier than usual. Richie snorted a laugh, “C’mon dollface,”

“Grams, this is Eddie-” Richie watched the way Eddie held out a hesitant hand in greeting, “Eds, my bitchy grandmother,”

The older woman, who looked ridiculously young, or maybe Eddie’s own family was just old, maybe Tozier genes really were that potent, maybe she married into the family. When they were forty would Richie still look like he was in his twenties? Is that what his grandmother’s appearance was implying? That one day Eddie would be the ugly one in the relationship -- he already was, have you seen Richie? But would it be more obvious how out of his league Richie was the older they got? She looked over Eddie’s appearance a few times, slowly taking in his heavily ripped jeans, the fishnets, the leather jacket with patches at the front courtesy of the scraggly group of punks he somehow managed to befriend -- oh wait till she saw the bright red ACAB stitched into the back, sewn between metallic studs -- the heavy boots, the nail polish, the make up, the choker, the everything.

“Nice to meet you, Eddie,” She finally said with a smile and grasped his hand firmly. “I love the festivity.”

“Thanks, my mother had other opinions,” He stammered and managed to, albeit a bit awkwardly, return her smile. She laughs, takes the paper bag, looks thrilled to find that theres more than just wine inside, and ushers them to the huge fucking table in the huge fucking dining room next to the huge fucking kitchen. Food is already on these fancy, expensive looking plates, piling up and Eddie doesn’t know if he’ll be able to actually eat any of it once someone else sits beside him.

Dinner is… interesting to say the least. Not anything like the ‘family dinners’ that he’s experienced at his aunt's house, where they all spent hours ‘gossiping’ and throwing around bible verses and racist remarks like confetti at some stupid party. Eddie hasn’t had an actual conversation with anyone on his mother's side since before he turned twelve and he’d like to keep it that way, pretty sure they’d like to keep it that way as well if their blatantly discluding him from everything was enough to go off of.

Richie’s family though, he felt included, which yes, made him anxious and pissed him off a little because they looked right past the chains and spikes and leather that he spent good money on, but it made him feel warm inside. They wanted to know him as a person and not as a controversial topic of discussion. Save for that one asshole who wore a bright red hat to the table, he cared a little less about Eddie and more about his appearance. Richie made it cleat taht he married in and they just havent found a way to get rid of him yet.

One of Richie’s uncles -- jesus god, the fucking Tozier genes -- and his younger duaghter, the same girl that stared him down at the door, Leah, helped with clean up, stacking plate after plate into her small hands while she stared ahead determined to keep a straight face while Richie made as many as he could to try and break it.

After that, without the prompting of conversation, Eddie slipped back into his shell, just a bit, clung to Richie’s arm and sipped on his fancy wine that tastes exactly like grape juice -- he's pretty sure Richie switched out the wine for actual juice and he doesn’t have it in himself to be mad because damn is he a lightweight and christmas parties are not the time for slutty drunk eddie to make an appearance -- and didn’t do much more than stand around while Richie lead wholeass conversations.

“Rich,” Eddie whispered. He squeezed his hand and Richie squeezed back instinctively.

“So he does talk,” Richie teased, turned from his cousin and focused on Eddie, “Whatcha need, baby boy?”

Eddie narrowed his eyes and glanced around to see if anyone heard. Don’t get him wrong, he’s never gone out of the way to hide their relationship, never wanted to, but he didn’t need a bunch of five year olds -- apparently ADHD ran just as strongly in Tozier DNA as strikingly blue eyes -- overhearing the name that made him weak in the knees and following suit because that's what kids did, “Don’t call me that in front of your family, dude.”

“Sure thing, dude,” Richie mocks, “No problem, man.”

“Oh shut the- shut up,” he laughed, “Wheres the fucking bathroom, asshole,”

“Mmm, watch it or you might not get your present when we get home,”

“I know you have like, an unlimited social battery, but I wont want to do anything for the next three days and that includes having sex. Shit like this wears me out, babe.” 

Richie guided Eddie down a few ridiculously long hallways and stopped in front of a dark blue door, “Why would I save sex for a dumb capatalist holiday? That's like a daily thing. I feel like I’d be making corporations proud by giving into the whole romantic holiday bullshit.”

“Go talk politics with fucking… Jason?” Eddie’s voice rose in pitch and his brows drew together, guessing on the name. “Whoever was trying to play devil's advocate about the election.”

“God, I am obsessed with you,” He hooked a finger under Eddie’s chin and tilted his head back and just stared at his face for a few seconds, maybe counting his freckles, maybe trying to find the gold flecks that he claimed were in his eyes (they weren’t. Eddie’s checked), maybe just trying to get him to blush but the entire time the look of complete adoration never wavered. “I might just go do that.”

Eddie rose to the tips of his toes, having taken his boots off a bit before dinner, one hand grasping the front of Richie’s sweatshirt with his empty faux wine glass gripped in the other, “Don’t,” he whispered as soon as their lips connected. And they really shouldn't have been doing this at a family get together in a house riddled with kids but hey, he was never good at telling Richie no. “At least wait till I’m done pissing so I can watch him look like a moron.”

“I am so in love with you. I am absolutely smitten.” He murmured between kisses, pulling a laugh from the shorter of the two before taking a step back and plucking the glass out of Eddie’s small hand, “You want me to wait?”

“No, I’ll just wander until I find you.”

—

“Holy shit!” Eddie yelped, nearly crashing into another human being the moment he stepped through the door, “Fucking christ- uh,” he laughed breathlessly and tugged his jacket tighter around himself, “Hi.”

“Is it true you’re a warlock?” The kid asks instead of offering a greeting.

Eddie blinks a few times because what? but what was he supposed to do, not indulge in this? Maybe it wasn’t ideal to basically be trapped in a bathroom because a kid wants to know if you’ve got magic abilities but it’s okay. He pulls a comically questioning expression, “Now where’d you hear that?”

“Uncle Richie,” Eddie’s heart practically combusts at that, sue him, it’s fucking adorable, “told us that you fight monsters and you dress like that because it scares them away. You’re like a magical superhero. Like batman, but cooler. Uncle Richie says Batman is stupid. I like batman. He’s pretty cool.”

Of course Richie says DC sucks. Eddie bends down just a little because either this kid is tall or Eddie gives in and somewhat accepts the fact that he falls into the short category and cups his mouth, “No one was supposed to know, it’s my secret identity. Promise you’ll keep it a secret. Just us?”

They light up, their cheeks splitting with a smile that shows off a missing bottom tooth, “I promise! Can I be your sidekick?”

“It’s not an easy job,” Eddie explains thoughtfully, puts a finger to his chin like he’s considering the request, “You’ve gotta be super tough and brave sometimes, think you could do it, kid?”

“Yes! Obviously! Everyone was scared to talk to you because they thought you would cast a spell on them like the monsters, but I came and asked!”

I am literally nineteen years old. I do not need a child. I do not need a child. I do not need a child. For fucks sake I do not need a child. I do not need a child. Nineteen year olds in their first year of college do not need a child.  
They scamper off after a few more questions and Eddie is so fucking warm inside from just that little interaction. His outfit was supposed to piss off his mom, show people that he was tough, not scare children, and honestly, it didn’t, they were just under the impression that he had super powers, but the whole thing made him fuzzy. His clothed socks take him down a few random hallways until he finds Richie in the living room, talking to a few people who look to be about his age -- but again, Tozier genes, they could be fifty for all Eddie knows -- and finds himself plopping down on the floor right between Richie’s crudely spread legs to listen in.

“You told them I was a fucking warlock?” He asked once the story was over, “None of them wanted to talk to me because they were scared of me, asshole.”

Richie laughs, dips down and kisses the top of his head, light brown roots starting to show through the dark hair dye, “Isn’t that what you want, babydoll? Everyone to find you all scary and intimidating?”

“Not kids, Rich,” Eddie pouts, “I thought they all just didn’t like me.”

“Oh it’s completely impossible for a Tozier to not be immediately infatuated with you, sweetheart,” Richie leans down again, this time Eddie tilts his head all the way back to meet him in a quick, chaste kiss. It still left him feeling high, his heartbeat thrumming in the tips of his fingers as he raises a hand to shove the glasses back up the bridge of Richie’s nose, “Speaking of,” Eddie hums, “You have a fan club awaiting your arrival,”

At least four kids are staring at him from across the massive living room when he finally looks up.

“I love you.”

“I know,”

“Even if you gave me grape juice instead of wine,”

“For your own good, Eddie baby,”

“And that you made all your little cousins terrified of me,”

“Mmm… when I told them you had super powers and scared away mean monsters that worked for the evil Bowers Corp. they were very excited to meet you.”

Eddie laughs breathily, “Bowers Corp?”

“What can I say? I take inspiration from real life events.”

By the time Eddie hauls himself to his feet, after making a show of “Do you see any secret spies in here, Richie? I feel like I’m being watched. I hope they don’t ambush me, I might have to put a spell on them,” because what kind of human being would he be if he didnt -- an awful one thats what -- the number of kids has doubled, a few are murmuring excitedly amongst each other.

“Can we be sidekicks too?”

“Cleo!”  
“I want to fight monsters too!”

“You don’t just ask!”  
“Rowan did!”

“Well Rowan is the oldest!”  
Eddie cleared his throat, cutting off all bickering amongst themselves, “There's lots of monsters. I think I can have more than just one side kick, don’t you guys agree?”

Withing seconds, a few of them are grabbing at his sleeves and his hands and are pulling him down the same hall, all talking over each other about what they should play -- legos, cars, uno, hide n seek, pretend monster hunting (as if eddie knew the rules to uno or pretend monster hunting off the top of his head) and something along the lines of the floor is lava but with some very biased rules. 

They ended up playing all of them.

\--

“I have never seen Harley this involved in a game before,” One of Richie’s cousins comments in a hushed whisper, the kid in question was holding a lego brick walkie talkie up to their mouth and making the staticky noise before saying “Come in, Captain Spaghetti, come in,” and waiting for Eddie to respond over his own from across the room, ducked behind a couch.

“This is Captain Spaghetti, over,”

“There’s too many of them, we need back up. Over.”

Eddie peeks from over the couch and beckons a few of them over to them with a wave of his hand. A few words are whispered before all of the kids are jumping out, fighting imaginary monsters in the form of stuffed animals and american girl dolls perched on shelves, some of them casting spells that ranged from avada kedavra to complete gibberish.

“Richie, why didn’t you bring him over sooner?” His grandmother asked. He had to forcibly tear his attention away from his boyfriend and younger cousin teaming up to cast spells on a stuffed bear with their magic wands (TV remotes) to respond. 

“I’ve been trying,” he says easily, “It took three days of convincing to get him to come tonight. Family issues. Y’know how it is.”

Cleo’s mom says, “If you don’t marry him, I’m going to be really fucking pissed off at you, Richie. He’s cute, socially aware, good with kids and can put up with you? You seriously struck out.”

“Trust me, I’ve got plans.”

They turned their attention to the flurry of movements when a shrill voice yells the floor is lava, Eddie and his trusty sidekicks all leap towards the couch in a fit of giggles and gasps, a few other, more cruel children stand on the once-monsters-now-stuffed-animals-again as personal life rafts, leaping between them enthusiastically.

“You better keep him, Rich,” his grandfather whispers, watching with a fond smile, “He’s already a Tozier in my eyes. I think I like him more than I like you.”

“That’s fair,” and then very loudly, Richie also replies, “Of course i’m keeping him. Who else will mother my children?”  
Eddie throws the TV remote and clocks him square in the chest with a little harumph and a blush high on his freckled cheeks.


End file.
